


Soulmates

by apolloenjolras



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7780867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolloenjolras/pseuds/apolloenjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader's first meeting with Gabriel does not go as planned. At all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmates

“We’re working with Gabriel?” You asked angrily. “You mean the guy that killed Dean a hundred times for kicks and giggles?”

“I know it’s not ideal, but we really aren’t in the position to turn down help.” What Sam said was true; You really did need the help.

“If Dean’s okay with it.” You said, looking at Dean. He looked seriously annoyed at the prospects of having to work with the trickster-angel, but gave you a nod. 

The three of you waited in your motel room, where this supposed “Gabriel” was going to meet you. You hadn't met him before, but you had heard plenty about him from your friends, the Winchesters. And none of it had been good. You touched your arm lightly, tracing the words that had been on there as long as you could remember. You always did this when you felt uneasy. This tattoo was your soulmate mark, the first words that your other half would say to you. You tried not to get too hopeful about meeting your soulmate. Knowing your luck, they would be a civilian, and you would have to leave as soon as you met. You knew you didn’t have it in you to quit the hunting lifestyle.

The Winchesters had never shown you their tattoos. Although soul mates were an uneasy topic for any hunter, you chalked it up more to the fact that they always wore countless layers. You knew that Sam had lost his mark years ago. Dean had never talked about his mark, and you never brought it up.  Because of your preference for short sleeves, both of the boys could see the “ _Not quite”_ written in the messiest writing you had ever seen sitting on the middle of your forearm. 

So far there was no sign of your feathery ally. How typical of an angel to show up late. You paced around the room, walking from one wall to the other. When you had walked to the door, you turned around to walk back to the window. You instead ran straight into a stranger.

“Oh, God!” You yelped in surprise. You hated angels with their stupid poofing in and out of a room.

“Not quiet.” He said with a wicked smirk.

“That’s not what I- wait, what did you just say?”

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that popped into my head. I left it short so that your imagination can take it wherever you want to go. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine! If you have any ideas on how I can improve my work, feel free to tell me!


End file.
